


Free like you made me.

by ninassield



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Gen, Platonic Female/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3373970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninassield/pseuds/ninassield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine Daiki's always been a slow learner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daiki

Everyone has a favourite season.  
Some people marvel at the way snowflakes and wind merge together during winter, others prefer the almost preposterous brightness of the sun in the middle of summer. There’s the way trees grow old throughout fall only to rise from their ashes in spring, too. Aomine Daiki supposes it’s only natural to have a preference, really.  
It’s a peculiar human characteristic: we were given the chance to carefully pick what to worship among the million of wonders in this world. Pretty lucky, eh.  
Well, if he _absolutely_ had to choose, Daiki would’ve designated spring as his dearest time of the year. He never grasps the reason, not until it doesn’t really matter anymore.  
  


* * *

  
  
He was only seven when his grandma called him inside during a particularly intense toy soldiers battle against Satsuki’s tenacious army.  
He stretched his lean figure and dragged his feet to obey, leaving his companion alone on the porch without so much of an explanation.  
_She’ll understand_ , he thought. _She always does anyway_.  
It isn’t until he’s twenty-one that he finally, finally realizes: that’s when it all started to go wrong.  
  


* * *

  
  
Daiki’s life is distinctly bisected between two fundamental aspects.  
There’s basketball, of course. That’d always be the first thing. He swoops on the court, fends the air as his fingertips barely touch the resilient material of the ball only to vigorously take off and assault the hoop like his whole existence depended on it. No one was patient enough to understand that _yes_ , it did depend on it, it definitely and categorically revolved around it, thank you very much.  
Fine, so maybe Momoi Satsuki knew that, but there wasn’t much that she didn’t know, truth be said. Stupid woman.  
May she be damned.   
May the second biggest part of his life be damned.  
  


* * *

  
  
It’s exactly when he’s a horny adolescent brat that things monumentally fall apart. Quite literally so, may he add.  
Basketball is still his life and Satsuki’s still clinging to it as well, but Daiki’s not there.  
His body is there and his grin is there and his gravure magazines are still there, much to his best friend’s disapproval. Every single thing engraved with his name and attitude was still there, but Daiki wasn’t.  
He was lost, inanimate, deceased. The more he tried, the less colours he was able to see.  
The world was shutting down and Daiki was following suit at alarming velocity.  
  


* * *

  
  
His spleen hurts like a bitch and his lungs are on fire when the loud buzz fills his ears. Neon numbers inform him of what he already knows: 101-100.  
He lost, Aomine Daiki finally lost, and there’s nothing in the world he’d rather feel than this bittersweet aftertaste, his eyes are open and his life’s in colour all over again and Tetsu’s fist touches his and Satsuki’s in tears and why does she always have to be so dramatic and it’s done, it’s over, Daiki is breathing again.  
  
Graduation comes in the blink of an eye and _come on_ , that was way too fast. He still has things to do, for crap’s sake! There are epic matches to conquer and much less extraordinary naps to take, he reasons. There’s a lot of time to make up for, there’s an immense number of lazy afternoons to spend stealing Satsuki’s orange juice and laughing at her poor cinematic choices.  
Yeah, there’s still a lot of Satsuki, there was always gonna be a lot of Satsuki.  
Daiki groans when he realizes that he doesn’t really mind.  
  


* * *

  
  
He gives his second button to her, of course.  
There isn’t anyone he can or wants to give it to, there isn’t anyone who’d treasure it like Momoi Satsuki would.  
Her big eyes widen and her cheeks match her hair as she accepts it and smiles, fumbling in her bag with those ridicoulsly soft hands just to produce a small, circular object and push it into his palm.  
_Ah_ , he thinks, _she gave it to me_.  
  


* * *

  
  
His chest rises and falls slowly, mouth half-open and eyes shut. He was supposed to revise for that goddamn final test because _you need to get this major, Dai-chan_ but he’s still Aomine Daiki and he was never one for diligence, and honestly Satsuki had been a branch of his spirit for long enough to know that damn well by now, so really, he might as well sleep and be greeted by her scolding face later.  
  
  
  
Except later never came and he should’ve known better.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
He’s twenty-one, an adult, a man - although a certain annoying woman would’ve had something to say about his supposed maturity - and he’s standing in a depressing field which is _really_ depressing, it’s not because he’s empathising with the view or shit like that, and there’s a big white box being carried by people he doesn’t recognize as every single person around him weeps and pats his back.  
Daiki, however, doesn’t cry.  
He didn’t cry when Satsuki told him he was being stupid because bees do not _in fact_ prey on people and all he needed to do was be brave and avoid them, he didn’t cry when Satsuki threw her pillow in his direction and declared her undying hatred for him and his stupid new attitude, he didn’t cry when Satsuki was too broken to pick up his pieces and glue him back together but tried doing it anyways. She tried so hard, she always tried so hard.  
Granted, he didn’t cry when Satsuki died either.  
Daiki scoffs as he makes his way to the front of the crowd, because damn her parents and their will to make him say crap about how amazing of a person she was while really, Satsuki was the worst.  
  
  
  
Momoi Satsuki was a complete idiot for a number of scientifc reasons.  
Reason number one, she insisted on ringing him on every school morning even if he kept on shutting the call in annoyance since he unquestionably didn’t care about being on time.  
Reason number two, she burned her right hand twice while trying to make him chocolate because _Dai-chan will mope all day if he doesn’t get anything on Valentine’s day_ and _screw you Satsuki_ , _I wasn’t a child and there was no need for you to fuck up your hand_ , he thinks.  
Reason number three, there was a small pink box on her nightstand with his button in it which was the final and biggest proof of how much of a sap she could be at times. Unnerving, really.  
Reason number four, she never gave up on him. Never. Not even when he turned his broad back on her for the umpteenth time, not even when he failed her over and over again, not even when he got back to his senses but still couldn’t make her proud in any fucking way.  
Momoi Satsuki stood trial for all of his sins without making a sound.  
Not a complaint, not a tear, only that stupid white smile that showed a bit of her gums and made her cheekbones puff like a damn squirrel and Jesus Christ, who even smiles like that?  
  


* * *

  
  
Her life was hectic and hard: she never really took time for herself.  
Babying him was apparently her main occupation - no time for manicure and a real life, Daiki presumes.  
Funniest thing was, there was no way that noisy woman could just go in silence, yet that’s exactly how it happened.  
One minute she was there, next thing he knew she was swallowed down a rabbit hole or something.  
No sirens, no screams. Nothing. Momoi Satsuki slipped away silently.  
  


* * *

  
  
There are two wonderful discoveries in what remains of Aomine Daiki’s life.  
One, Momoi Satsuki was much less of an idiot than he was.  
Two, he actually liked the way cherry blossoms fell from trees and got stuck in her hair.  
Yeah, he very much liked how she always made him pick them out one by one, until one day he was too tall and too stupid to appreciate the way she sang _please, Dai-chan_ anymore.  
So _that_ was why he chose spring, huh.  
  


* * *

  
  
He’s twenty-one and for the first time in two decades he finally wraps his head around the miracle that was Momoi Satsuki’s existence.  
It’s a natural consequence that he can’t help but wonder about the point in all this moving on shit if she couldn’t be there to slap the back of his head and drag him on the right path again.  
Because really, Daiki was a slow learner and the fact that he only fully grasped the massive importance of her presence when she was gone for good was just infuriating and frankly comical.  
  
"I hope you’re happy, Satsuki. You can go all I told you so from wherever the fuck you are right now, alright? In fact, you know what? Just say it to my face. Just come back here and say it to my face."  
  
  
  
  
Except Satsuki doesn’t say it to his face ever again because people die and don’t rise back from the grave just to tease their best friends, and that was a cosmic truth that Daiki had to learn the hard way.


	2. Satsuki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's always been the smart one.

Momoi Satsuki is undoubtedly and absolutely positive of a couple of things.  
Her intellect is agile enough for her to list them one by one in extreme detail without having to think about it for more than a millisecond, but for the sake of concision, her mind specifically narrowed it down to just one fundamental truth: there wasn’t a single force in the universe that could ever,  _ever_  make her stop admiring the delightful brilliance of the summery sun. 

 

* * *

 

 

She’s only seven when her absolute triumph over Daiki’s muddled army of toy soldiers is abruptly interrupted by his grandma’s croaky call.  
Her eyes carefully follow the way he stretches his lean figure and drags his feet to obey, not saying much.  
_Ah_ , Satsuki realises.  _He’s a slow learner_.  
She’s supposedly way too young to grasp it, but she manages to do it anyway: that boy was going to be a handful.  
  


* * *

 

Satsuki’s life was always articulated around Daiki’s existence.  
She marvelled at the way he flew through thin air and powerfully slammed the ball in the hoop only to land gracefully like a big, perpetually grinning feline.  
Her smile is unusually bright as the vivid memory of the first time they played basketball replays on the back of her lids for what she’s sure is the umpteenth time.  
_Dai-chan, stop running so fast!  
Shut up, Satsuki…I was born to do this!_  
And he was, he undeniably was.   
Aomine Daiki was born to amaze and be amazed on the court. He loved basketball, he  _breathed_ basketball, and as a natural consequence, so did she.  
  


* * *

  
  
It’s exactly when she’s still a young and inexperienced woman that everything disastrously and inescapably collapses. Satsuki’s bones break under the weight of the certain awareness that no matter how much she wants to fix it, she just can’t.  
She’s not ready to accept it, she  _doesn’t want_  to, she  _tries_  not to, but the brutal and final truth is that Daiki’s not there. Not anymore.  
Granted, Satsuki knows exactly what happened: his flame was simply too bright, too fierce , too vigorous to control.  
Aomine Daiki burned everything to the ground and lost himself in the fire.  
  


* * *

  
  
Satsuki’s teary gaze is set on Daiki’s panting figure.  
101-100. it’s done, he’s back,  _thank God_   _he’s back_.  
His fist meets Testu-kun’s and that officially seals the deal, and it doesn’t matter that he’s raising an eyebrow to question her supposedly dramatic reaction, it doesn’t matter that she couldn’t be the one to glue him back together, it doesn’t matter that he turned his back on her for thousands and thousands of times, nothing matters anymore because there’s no way she’s going to let him get lost again.  
_Welcome back, Dai-chan._  
  


* * *

  
  
Graduation comes painstakingly slowly.  
Satsuki’s life is unnecessarily hectic, sure, but it’s also  _so_ fullfilling,  _so miraculously fullfilling_ , that she can’t wait read the next chapter and finally take off and leap into the future she wants to seize for herself and Daiki.   
Granted, he was always going to be part of the equation - that’s a mere mathematical assurance, she thinks.   
He doesn’t know it, doesn’t even suspect it, but he’s always been a branch of Satsuki’s spirit.   
_Maybe one day he’ll realise_ , she ponders.  
  
He never stopped being someone’s light.  
  


* * *

  
  
Momoi Satsuki wasn’t easy to surprise.  
She was always ready, always thinking ahead, always capturing glimpses of fundamental details in extremely mundane matters.   
It was the way she saw the world, plain and simple.  
That being said, when Daiki scoffed and pushed his button in her hand, she was very much surprised.  _Beyond_  surprised, actually: she was beaming.   
As she brightly did the same, her lungs inflated with hope and anticipation: they still had a long, thrilling way to go together, and she was going to cherish every second of it.  
  


* * *

  
  
The winter wind whips Satsuki’s cheeks as she makes her way through an ocean of people, fishing for her phone in a much too big bag. She sighs and makes an obligatory mental note to get a coat with larger pockets, because _does that stupid jacket actually keep you warm, Satsuki?_    
He had a point, he  _always_  had a point, and the way he struggled to express his worry towards her  _but tried to do it anyway_  never failed to make her smile.  
_Ah_ , she esults, pulling out a slim and pink device.   
Her fingers work mechanically as she flips it open and absent-mindedly types her daily motherly text, smiling fondly at the feed.  
_You need to get this major, Dai-chan._  
  


* * *

  
  
She could've seen it.  
She could've payed attention to the hooter.  
She could've lifted her gaze from the display a second _earlier_.  
  
She didn't.  
  
  
Life's just a waving feather, isn't it?  
  


* * *

  
  
  
There's an interesting theory about afterlife.  
According to the theory of biocentrism, death as we know it is an illusion created by our consciousness - a joke, basically. As a thousand of different voices ring in her ears, Satsuki considers this particular speculation and eventually decides that it isn't her main concern.   
She's going to die, that's pretty much granted by now.  
She's going to  _die_ , and the only thing she wants to think of, the only thing soothing her as she still tries to cling onto life is him.  
  


* * *

  
  
The thought that someone like the rough and tough Aomine Daiki could shriek at the sight of bees was absolutely exhilarating, but Satsuki had the heart to keep a serious façade as she examined her friend's swollen lip.   
They were just eleven so he could've cried if he wanted to, but he didn't. Typical.  
Satsuki remembers lecturing him about how he needed to be brave and avoid his natural enemies instead of running away and provoking them, but as usual he didn't really pay attention to her words and effectively got stung.  
"Stupid Dai-chan, I told you not to scream and run!"  
"I didn't scream!" he protests, quickly rubbing his eyes to destroy the salty drops stuck in his eyelashes. Satsuki rolls her eyes.  
"I'm the man..." he then mumbles, staring at his feet as her cold fingers trace his battle wound. " _I_  should be protecting  _you_ "  
Her heart flip flopped.  
  


* * *

  
  
"I hate you and your stupid new attitude!"  
Satsuki's anger was justified, it  _really_  was, but she didn't mean any of it nonetheless.  
Daiki didn't flinch or cry, he just picked up the pillow she half-heartedly threw at him and positioned it back on her bed.   
"That's just how things are, Satsuki".  
She knew that fairly well, thank you very much.   
She knew that there was no way for her to protect him, not from himself -  _that's why she hated it_.   
She absolutely, unconditionally despised every single thing that put him through pain, and it didn't matter if it was Daiki himself doing that.  
  


* * *

  
  
Satsuki was proud.  
As her eyes scanned his newly found smile, as her hands found their way to his cheeks, as her scars matched his and shone in spite of all the hurt hidden behind them, she was  _proud_.   
She was so incredibly, spectacularly proud.  
  


* * *

  
  
Her last coherent thought is for him, of course.   
That's just how it was supposed to be, and really, she's content with that.  
She knows he's going to be insufferable for quite a long time without her presence to balance his existence, and if her body responded to impulses, she would've chuckled devotedly at that prospect.  
Thing is, he's a stupid big crybaby down to the core, so he's probably going to regret all the  _shut up, Satsuki's_. No, he's  _definitely_  going to do that.   
Stupid Daiki.  
In spite of the odds, she hopes he doesn't.  
She's very fond of those, after all.  
  


* * *

  
  
He was nowhere near proficient at conveying his feelings, but Satsuki mastered the art of breaking through his pretenses a long, long time ago.  
She knew everything there was to know about him even before he could begin to acknowledge it, which was  _precisely_  why she didn't give up on him.  
How could she do that, when his sharp angles were nothing but a disguise for his bottomless warmth?   
Aomine was her summery sun and she _knew_  he kept on shining for her even with all those storms clouding his brilliance.   
That was enough for her, it was so much more than enough.  
  
  
Momoi Satsuki began and ended with Aomine Daiki, and he was going to realise it too late as usual - he's always been a slow learner, Satsuki's known that for more than a decade now. Well, it was fine anyway.   
They had a good run, right?  
  
  
Her lips curve in a smile and she finally,  _finally_  decides to rest.  
  


_Told you so, Dai-chan._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](http://ninassield.tumblr.com), by the way. /fidgets/ ;-;


End file.
